


Molotov Cocktail

by Bronte



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Chat is a geek, Episode: s02 Zombizou, F/M, Identity Reveal, Ladybug is having none of it, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies, actually kind of funny, because, you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 12:58:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14379150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bronte/pseuds/Bronte
Summary: “Being hunted down by bloodthirsty zombies is your idea of fun?”A Zombie AU.





	Molotov Cocktail

**Author's Note:**

> Zombizou was LIT amirite?!

**Day 2**

“And that M’Lady,” Chat says, swinging his staff straight through the assailant’s body with a kind of tiresome panache that implies that he’d been doing this all day, “is why my weapon is better. It’s the _purrfect_ tool.”

Ladybug rolls her eyes and shoots him a glare that screams pure irritation or something to that effect. She ducks as another aggressor invades her space and she quickly steps back, allowing the reanimated corpse to stumble before slicing its head off clean with the string of her yoyo, “I still don’t understand how you can make puns at a time like this.”

“Someone’s gotta keep our spirits up. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck here without backup,” Chat replies, clubbing a zombie with a resounding _thwack_ across its skull, “Besides, it’s fun.”

“Being hunted down by bloodthirsty zombies is your idea of fun?”

“Oh come on Ladybug! The Last of Us? Resident Evil? Haven’t you ever played a video game before?” Chat lashes out with his staff again, “Can’t touch this, you undead _branleur_!”

Ladybug shakes her head and kicks the closest zombie to her in the torso, cringing visibly as her foot sinks straight through the corpse’s chest, “I’ll stick to Ultimate Mecha Strike III, thank you very much.”

“You’re missing out,” Chat wrenches the body off of his partner’s foot and bludgeons it over the head with his staff, “The storytelling is insane and the graphics, oh, don’t get me started.”

Ladybug scoffs, “Like I said, I prefer the classics. Zombies aren’t exactly my thing.”

“Suit yourself,” Chat shrugs, glancing over his shoulder at a set of doors leading into an _épicerie_ behind him, “We could barricade ourselves in there and buy us some time.”

Ladybug follows his gaze and nods quickly, “Good idea, I’ll try and pry it open. Try not to get bitten?”

“Of course M’Lady. I wouldn’t want this pretty face getting hurt.”

Ladybug’s glare is murderous as Chat spins around with a flourish, bracing his weapon against his shoulder. He jabs and dodges effortlessly, aiming for the lifeless skulls of the undead and whooping all the while.

Ladybug releases a sigh of relief at the sound of the lock giving way, “Help me get these doors open Chat. They’re stuck.”

Chat turns around and braces one of his boots against the building’s siding, “Got it. Help me pull.”

Wrenching the doors open, the two superheroes slink in and shove the doors closed behind them. Chat turns around with a guarded expression, his staff brandished like a sword in his hands as he scans the building vigilantly for any sign of their unfriendly foes with his night vision.

“There’s three of them on the other side of the store. I don’t think they’ve heard us yet.”

Ladybug nods, still staring at the walls of the _épicerie_ suspiciously, “We better barricade these doors before—”

Dozens of scabby fingers began to pry away at the store’s boarded entrance, urging it to open with their vast and ungodly numbers. Chat throws himself at the doors and keeps the thirty odd corpses at bay while Ladybug props everything she can find against the entry point. Once she’s nearly satisfied, she pulls Chat away to help her drag a refrigeration unit over to stabilize the barrier, fortifying it well enough to last them for a while.

“Shoot,” Ladybug mutters, spinning around with a frown, “The fridge must have done it. I can hear them coming.”

“Damn,” Chat walks over to a shelf full of potato crisps and tears open a bag, “Call backup. See how far they’re out now that we’ve got a break.”

Ladybug nods and flips the lid of her yoyo open, “Ladybug to the Police, does anybody read?”

“Loud and clear Ladybug. Still alive I hope?”

“For now,” Ladybug replies, keeping a close eye on the approaching assailants, “How long until backup arrives?”

“Thirty minutes tops,” the officer replies quickly, his voice crackling through the receiver, “We lost contact with a few of the remaining teams a few minutes ago. The military is on their way but they’re still a ways out.”

Ladybug swallows the bitter taste in her mouth and sighs, dusting off a Coca Cola and twisting open the cap, “I have to go. We’ve got company.”

“Keep us updated.”

“We will.”

Ladybug flips her yoyo closed and tucks it back against her belt, forcing the lukewarm soft drink past her parched lips. She sucks down most of it and tosses the rest aside, already feeling the rush of sugary liquid coursing through her veins. She catches a glimpse of Chat as he sets his bag of crisps to the side and snatches the staff tucked up against the small of his back, aiming it with an uncanny elegance at the far end of the store.

“Zombie clean-up on aisle two!” Chat bellows, chucking his staff towards the first of the three corpses to stumble out from the doorway. The dead body tumbles to the ground in a bloody, haphazard mess and Chat smiles wildly, snatching his staff from the floor in anticipation of the next of his guests to arrive.

The second of the zombies appears to have been a police officer in his past life, his tattered and threadbare uniform being the only remaining symbol of the position he once had. Chat wastes no time knocking his lights out, eager to put the poor man out of his misery.

The third and final zombie staggers outwards and braces itself against the fallen body of his comrade as it tries to get past it, forcing a laugh out of Chat. He lowers his staff to his side and stares at the hilarious looking thing, its tongue lolling and its jaw slack, “You lookin’ at me? You lookin’ at _me_?”

Ladybug nearly smacks herself in the face with her palm, “Oh, for god’s sake—”

“Well I’m the only one here,” Chat continues, mocking the zombie as it pauses to size him up, “Who do you think you’re lookin’ at? Oh yeah?” Chat swings his staff around in a flash of movement and promptly thwacks the ridiculous looking creature straight between the eyes. Grinning, he turns his gaze away and smiles complacently at his partner, pausing only to stuff a handful of crisps into his mouth.

“I swear, if you don’t stop quoting movies and making puns, I will beat you with your staff myself,” Ladybug mutters, rolling her eyes and leaning back against a shelf full of chocolate bars. She ignores Chat’s snickers and busies herself by looking through the cracks of the boarded up windows, “There’s at least ten more of them out there. They must be attracted to noise.”

Chat composes himself and walks over to the cashier’s desk, ducking beneath the counter in search of something useful, “Can we bar the doors with anything else?”

“Not without drawing more unwanted guests,” Ladybug replies, joining him by the counter, “We’re going to have to fight them, unless you’ve got any better ideas.”

Chat’s smirk grows wider in a way Ladybug isn’t sure she likes, “...have you ever heard of a Molotov cocktail?”

Against her better judgement, Ladybug returns the grin, “I’ll search for the alcohol.”

Keeping one eye each on the weakening barricade, Ladybug begins to gather as many bottles as she can find while Chat snatches the shirt off of the nearest zombie and tears it to shreds with his claws. He lays the scraps out in a neat row on the counter beside Ladybug’s gathered bottles and reaches down to grab a package of lighters, quickly ripping the cardboard apart with his teeth. Ladybug continues to collect bottles of alcohol and lines them up on the filthy counter, twisting off the caps and soaking the strips of fabric in the liquid.

Chat ignites one of the lighters with his thumb, illuminating his viridian eyes in the flickering dark, “You ready?”

Ladybug nods, grasping the other lighter out of her partner’s hands, “Let’s do this.”

And as the doors cave in and the refrigeration unit falls, both Ladybug and Chat light their cocktails and throw them at the horde of undead creatures lurching through the debris. Once, twice, three times they chuck their explosives into the fray and when the first wave of heat dies down and nothing is left moving, Chat turns to Ladybug and lifts his fist in relief.

“Come on Bugaboo. With all that noise there’ll be plenty more coming.”

Ladybug bumps his offered fist with her own and dips her head towards the door, offering him the smallest of smiles. Chat desperately wants to hug her and follows on her heels, leaping over the mess of charbroiled bodies on the street.

They run.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
